The Black Stallion's Sulky Colt (7 page)

There was hope in Alec's voice as he said, “That's all he needs. He'll come back strong. He's one of the good ones.”

“You should know, Alec,” Henry said, turning away. “I'm sure you're right.” He finished his coffee, well aware that he wasn't certain at all that he could do anything for Bonfire in so short a time before the Hambletonian. Nor was he any more certain about Alec. Both of them needed time, and he wasn't being given much of it. “Let's get out of here, Alec,” he said finally. “We got a lot to do.”

They went back to the stables, and found George packing his suitcase. He turned around when they entered the tack room, his face grave in his concern for Tom and for what was ahead of him. Yet when he saw Henry a slight flicker of defiance showed in his eyes. He knew this man wasn't one of them. He didn't have to be told; he sensed it all by himself. And after having worked for Jimmy Creech so many years, he didn't like Henry's cocky assurance, either.

Henry said, “Alec and I are stayin' here, George. That's what I want to tell Jimmy. We want to take over the colt.”

George looked at Alec sympathetically, and then his gaze shifted to Bonfire's tack trunk, which he'd already packed and closed. “I spoke to Jimmy a few
minutes ago,” he told Henry. “I couldn't wait for you any longer.”

An angry crimson flush swept over Henry's face.

George broke the tense silence by closing his suitcase and saying, “Jimmy said to send the colt home just as I'd arranged. He's meeting Tom and me at the Pittsburgh airport.”

Trying to keep the anger out of his voice, Henry asked, “Did you tell him I was here and wanted to talk to him?”

“No,” George said.

“Then you'd better come with me now while I call him,” Henry said, taking George by the arm and moving him toward the door. “I want you to hear what he has to say so you'll know it's all right to leave Bonfire with us.”

Alec watched them go. George had stopped struggling. Now he was even walking ahead of Henry as though eager to make the phone call and have Jimmy put this
intruder
in his proper place.

Alec went to Bonfire. The colt had his head over the half-door and Alec rubbed him softly behind the ears. It might happen that he would be with this colt only a little while longer. He hoped not. He hoped Jimmy would agree to leave Bonfire behind. Alec knew that with Henry's help he and Bonfire would get to the Hambletonian.

Almost an hour went by before Henry and George returned. Alec needed only to look at their faces to know how much the long talk with Jimmy Creech had taken from both men. Their faces were
taut and white with nervous fatigue. Henry had been given charge of Bonfire. Alec knew this from the pinpoints of light in his friend's eyes. He pulled the colt's head a little closer to let him know.

George was not angry but tolerant and submissive. Jimmy's decision had relieved him of all responsibility for Bonfire. Now his only concern was for Tom. “I'll go and tell the van driver not to come around tomorrow morning,” he said.

Henry stopped before the stall, putting a large hand on Bonfire. Alec noticed that it was trembling.

“How'd it go?” he asked.

“Rough,” Henry answered. “Jimmy was never very easy to get along with. He's worse now. Maybe it's because he's been so sick. He has a mind of his own, and he flares up worse than the worst kind of young colt.” Henry paused, his face relaxing a little while he looked at Bonfire. “But we got this fellow anyway,” he added. “Jimmy's got too much at stake not to take any kind of a chance … 
even on me
.”

“Doesn't he like you?” Alec asked.

“Sure he likes me, or we wouldn't have his colt,” Henry snapped back. “And I like Jimmy too. It's just that we don't think alike. We never did.” Henry paused. “But I don't want to talk about him any more. Enough is enough.”

They stood quietly beside the stall for a few more minutes and then Henry said, “When George gets back I want you and me to go over to the hospital.”

Alec felt his face stiffen. Finally he said, “Sure, Henry. I want to see Tom before he leaves.”

It was going to be difficult, Alec knew, seeing Tom
in the hospital and knowing what lay ahead of him before he'd be able to walk again. Henry must be well aware of this. Perhaps that's why he had suggested the visit. Henry wanted him to face what he'd done to Tom,
and then forget it
.

Henry had taken over.

Alec slept very little that night. He tossed restlessly on his cot, knowing that Henry was wide-awake too. And yet he was able to close his eyes without seeing Tom's face on the track before him. His visit to the hospital had done that for him.

They'd been given only five minutes with Tom. Nothing was as difficult as Alec had thought it would be. At first it had been hard, walking into the room and seeing Tom's leg held high by traction weights. But Tom said he had no pain, that the traction wasn't as bad as it probably looked to them. He was anxious to get to Pittsburgh and have the operation done. He was glad he wasn't going to need a body cast, for it would have kept him in bed. He'd be up and around again soon, using crutches. He was going to make very sure he'd be up in time to fly with Jimmy to see the Hambletonian. He wasn't going to miss that, even if he had to walk all the way to Goshen, New York.

When they'd left Tom, Henry had said, “You don't
have to worry none about that boy. He's game as they come. Nothin's going to keep him from racing horses again, especially nothin' like a broken leg.”

Alec turned over on his cot. They couldn't fail Tom. He'd been so happy and pleased when they'd told him Bonfire wasn't being sent home. No, none of them could let Tom down.

This was George's last night with them, and the alarm clock had been set for an early hour. As it turned out, George didn't need to be awakened by the alarm, for Henry was up before dawn.

George heard him, and immediately got out of bed and dressed. Then he went over to Alec's cot. “You awake, Alec?”

“Yes, George. Are you going now?”

“Might as well. It's earlier than I'd planned, but so much the better. I'll reach the hospital in good time.”

From outside they heard Bonfire's low nicker.

“Does Henry get up this early every morning?” George asked, picking up his suitcase.

“At the track he does. He stays in bed longer at home.”

George said, “It's not goin' to make him very popular around here. They put out the track lights and quit work only a few hours ago.”

Alec swung himself to a sitting position on the side of his cot. “Not being popular won't bother Henry any,” he said.

George groped for Alec's hand in the darkness. “I guess I don't have to tell you how much I'm hopin' for the best for you an' the colt … and Henry,” he added thoughtfully.

“Thanks, George. You take care of Tom. Make sure everything goes right.”

“I will. Good-bye, Alec.”

“Good-bye, George.”

After the old man had left, Alec dressed, putting on the clean jeans and sweatshirt that Henry had thoughtfully brought along. He felt a lot better for having them. They were as clean and fresh as the morning itself. He was eager to get to work before the sun came up.

The sky was a dull gray when Alec returned from the washroom. He found Henry grooming Bonfire. “George says you're not going to be very popular around here,” he said, smiling.

“That's what he told me,” Henry replied as he went on with his work. “I've never seen such a place. After five, and no one's up but us.”

“Their schedule isn't the same as ours, Henry.”

The trainer cleaned the straw from Bonfire's long black tail. “So much the better for what we got to do,” he said.

Alec glanced at him in a puzzled manner and then shrugged his shoulders. He'd know soon enough what Henry had in mind.

The colt tossed his head, pulling at the tie ropes. He nickered, and from along the row came the answers of other horses. A sleepy, angry voice shouted, “Quiet,
you
!”

Henry said, “I'm goin' to take Bonfire for a little walk an' get to know him better. You can clean up the stall if you like. I'll be back as soon as it gets light enough for us to see on the track.”

Alec nodded, and went to work. He hadn't figured on going to the track this morning. He'd thought Henry would give the colt a day off.

Later Henry came back with the colt. “Let's hook him up now,” he said. “Bonfire told me he likes getting out this early.”

Alec pushed the training cart from under the overhang, while Henry put on the colt's bridle. It was an open bridle, Alec noticed. No blind for Bonfire today. And the colt was eager to go, just as Henry had said.

Alec watched Henry tighten the harness leather about the shafts. His hands worked expertly, never fumbling or groping. Regardless of how Henry felt about harness racing he knew what he was doing.

Alec had taken up the long lines when Henry said, “We're just going to jog a little this morning. I want to see his action, an' I also want to see how he goes with an open bridle.” He turned from the colt to Alec. “In other words, I'm startin' at the beginning this morning. No one will be out on the track with you, an' like I said, that's better for us. I don't want to put him in any kind of a tight spot this morning. I'll learn all I want to know just by watchin' the two of you.”

Alec slid into the seat behind Bonfire and moved to the far side. “I guess you could ride over, if you wanted,” he suggested.

“No thanks,” Henry answered quietly. “I'm not
that keen
about bein' here.”

Bonfire began moving, and Alec lifted his dangling feet to the iron stirrups on the shafts. The colt strode easily without demanding more rein. His tail came back, flicking Alec in the face.

Tail-sitter, that's what I am now
, Alec thought. He glanced back at Henry, wondering how his old friend felt about seeing him behind a colt rather than astride one.

Alec slowed Bonfire to a walk while crossing the macadam road that led to the huge parking area. Beyond, the great stands loomed black and grotesque in the early-morning grayness. Alec turned the colt toward the training track, letting him go into his fast walk. He was glad they'd have the track to themselves.

He clucked to Bonfire as they went up the homestretch. He felt the slightly stronger pull on the lines, now that the colt had the track beneath his hoofs. But Bonfire requested rather than demanded more rein. He had a very light mouth, and was most obedient and responsive. Like Satan back at home, Bonfire's speed could be turned on and off by Alec's slightest commands.

Alec sat back comfortably in his seat. He hummed a little, glorying in being alone with a fine colt on a fine morning. It was a world set apart from all others, and his love for it drove everything else from his mind.

They completed one lap, passing Henry, who sat on a bench near the middle of the homestretch. But Alec was too happy to notice Henry's close scrutiny as they went by. Even so it wouldn't have mattered, for it was what he expected of Henry.

Alec kept humming to his colt, feeling relaxed and very much at home. He knew he needed to give Bonfire only the lightest touch and the speed would come. But he kept him to the slow jog Henry had ordered and completed another lap.

Going around the track for the third time, he
saw another horse coming through the gate. He felt his spine stiffen, and then was able to relax again. But his gaze shifted often to the horse jogging around the far turn behind them.

As he took Bonfire into the homestretch, approaching Henry again, his eyes sought the trainer, asking him what he wanted done. The horse behind was coming along at a faster clip than Bonfire. Soon he'd be overtaking them.

“Keep going, Alec,” Henry called, waving them on.

Alec nodded and continued up the track. But nothing was the same as it had been before. He felt tense. He kept looking back at the horse jogging behind them, coming ever closer.

Henry rose from his seat on the bench, strode a few feet, and then sat down again. “Use your eyes, not your feet!” he told himself angrily. He had seen Alec stiffen in the cart seat. And now he watched him glance back often at the horse coming around the turn. It wasn't like Alec to pay attention to anything but his own horse.

Henry's gaze left Alec for the man driving the horse down the stretch. When he went by, the man called, “Howdy! Nice morning.”

“Howdy,” answered Henry. “Sure is.”

Then he looked on ahead at Bonfire and Alec. He had only to watch the colt to know that Alec was tense. Bonfire was a highly strung, sensitive colt. He felt everything his driver did. He had a mouth that turned those leather lines into electric wires. And through them Alec's uneasiness was being transmitted to the colt.

Henry's eyes narrowed with concern. He turned and looked back at the horse behind, so far behind that Bonfire didn't know he was being followed. The colt's restlessness was all Alec's doing. Alec and his turning head.

Henry thought,
It might be worse for Alec than I'd figured on. I can't believe it, though. Alec's never been afraid of anything. He isn't now. Not for himself, anyway. He's afraid of what the colt might do. He doesn't want to hurt anyone again. But he's not making it any easier for the colt or himself … or for me. I'm stuck here, all right, whether I like it or not. We're not going to take this home with us. I got to lick it where it started, and that's right on a
harness
track
.

Henry watched the other horse draw ever closer to Bonfire. They came down the backstretch, around the turn, and toward him again. He saw Alec glance at him, expecting a signal to stop the colt rather than go around again. But Henry waved them on for another lap.